


"Freak"

by TheIslandOfMisfitToys



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIslandOfMisfitToys/pseuds/TheIslandOfMisfitToys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, John Watson fucks up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Freak"

Sometimes, John Watson fucks up.

It's not very often and it's not always major, but it happens. This time though, he's really cocked it up.

Sherlock is glaring at him from a distance and John can't meet his eye. The room seems to have dropped several degrees in temperature. The words spoken moments ago still linger in the air like litle puffs of noxious gas.

"Freak."

It's a word that, on the whole is avoided in 221B. Sherlock isn't too fond, and while it's far above him to behave like a puppy who has been somehow wronged - it's still rather hurtful.

"You were the one person who'd never called me that." This is uttered coolly, calmly, his eyes resembling ice.

"I'm sorry." John whispers, and he means it, really. But Sherlock stalks off to their bedroom and later that night when John joins him, there are no surprisingly strong, warm arms around him like normal. John hardly sleeps.

In the morning, neither one speaks a word to the other, though Sherlock makes them both tea, as per usual. However, as Sherlock hands John his mug, where there should be a kiss exchanged, there is nothing but cold emptiness. And still silence.

They get a case that day. Six bodies, murders all identical; three probable killers; no discernible motive - tricky. That's why they're here. Sherlock makes his deductions and John avoids Lestrade's puzzled looks and questioning glances - why is he ignoring you? Why doesn't he grin at you every time you call him "Brilliant!" and "Fantastic!" and "Amazing!"?

They get home. John puts the kettle on. Sherlock sprawls out on the sofa.

"Can we talk?" John asks from the kitchen. Sherlock grunts. He takes this as a yes. They try to talk things through, and Sherlock ends up stalking off to bed early again. John waits several hours before following.

They lie apart again, each inhabiting their own half of the bed. John stares at the ceiling, but hears a rustling of movement to his left. Sherlock is rolling over and shuffling onto John's side of the bed. His arms wrap around the man's waist and neither of them says a word.

**Author's Note:**

> There you go, just a little idea I had and couldn't resist turning into a fanfiction! Short, but sweet :)


End file.
